A God that is Yours

Slender beams of moonlight enter
this darkened chamber as I kneel,
always lost, always lost,
frozen here,
waiting.

Tortured forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
infiltrating my darkened soul.

Realization dawning on an angel's face.

I raise my head, now crying out for
this oblivious mortality.